


hero

by teavious



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teavious/pseuds/teavious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one tells her she can't be a hero. No one tells her the hero she needs won't stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hero

**I.**

Nasuada, during the first years of her life, is referred more as Ajihad’s daughter, than being called by her own name. People still look at her with respect, because her father is so important to them, but they also ignore her immediately afterwards, because she is still just a child, a girl on top of that.

So she searches for those who are wiling to spend time with her. They are usually men too old to be of use to the vardens physically, but are appreciated for their incredible mind, and Nasuada is always charmed by the brave acts of people she might have meet, if born just a little bit earlier.

The promise of a better life that can be brought only with the throwing of the current ruler from the throne, makes her blood boil and her dreams be filled with incredible fights and she’s the hero.

No one tells her she can’t become that, and everyday passes with more knowledge added, according to her status of the ruler’s daughter. She gladly replaces the knitting needles with a sword, the pen with a bow.

When foreigners come to make business with her father, she is presented to those people with so much pride that it makes her wish for _more and more and more._

Only because she can do it.

**II.**

Surda is a country she dislikes. It’s too much light and too much heat, and the dresses she has to wear stick to her back. Even if she is almost twelve and used to harsh talking and problems, it seems like this country has even more to offer.

The coronation of a new king is an incredibly joyful subject; though Nasuada thinks it’s funnier for the men to make fun of her skin color. No injuries are sent towards her father, he is a powerful men that seeks the favors of the new king, but so are all the other people gathered in the palace. They fear more his ideas and his determination, the way his eyes burn. She fists her hands, and when the king throws an uninterested _we’ll think about it_ , she sits a little bit straighter.

Her steps follow those of the king’s, who is not much older than her, barely an obvious difference, as the boy goes immediately to his chambers, to play with glass containers and bowls filled with weird plants. He closes the doors behind him, but there is no knight to announce her presence and no one to stop her from getting closer and closer to the young king. He weeps, maybe a little bit too loud.

She sits on the floor, legs crossed, as no real lady would, but as every child does, and she tries to think how losing her father would feel like.

Nasuada knows her heart can’t afford such suffering yet, and it’s probable to come earlier if Surda doesn’t continue helping the vardens that live in the dwarfs tunnels.

The knock is hard at his door, and when he sees his visitor being a small girl, Orin almost laughs. But she is in no mood for this kind of behavior, and instead she starts describing him the way their lives move from where she is from, and how they really depend on Surda’s resources. It’s her first act of putting her pride aside, and she wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t so important.

The king listens and understands, and on the next meeting, he defies his council and agrees to keep on helping the vardens.

On her next visit, Nasuada brings him the plants that can grow without light and some colorful minerals that only the dwarfs and Orin are interested in.

**III.**

Nasuada knows everyone in the small community of vardens that live around her. So when two strangers appear at their unknown gates, accompanied by a dying elf and a dragon, she senses the opportunity of eternity.

She sees the way the dwarfs immediately go out of their way to make place for the visitors, even if they mumble about a hate that still haven’t died out and even though the treatment they offer is not the nicest.

The Rider, the one on whose shoulders the future of every human and magical creature is, has it easy, somehow. Their magicians are acting nice towards him, acknowledging his power compared to their own, and probably allowing him enough time and space to realize how important his coming here is to the course of all peoples.

Nasuada feels like this responsibility will break his will like a sword is broken in the hands of an untrained fighter, and no matter how much she or all the vardens want to rush the things, he needs training before anything else.

Her attention is drawn instead to the other one. Murtagh is his name, and his secrets are more important than a tired mind and untreated body. She eases his pain with a few hushed orders, with a kind smile, with the free hours at dusk she can spear to talk with him. They never go on subjects that are related to their pasts, instead being overly enthusiastic about finding another person that enjoyed the same books, that shared the same beliefs.

Every time she leaves his cell, she feels like she leaves a little bit more of an unknown her to him.

**IV.**

She doesn't feel the absence of her mother often. There are times when children would ask her about this, or when the lack of information would allow her mind to think of whatever she wants, but she is not exactly bothered. Her father is extraordinary at keeping the loneliness away through his constant stories of encouragement and the maids she got from her thirteenth birthday onward are a good company.

She only truly tastes the absence of a half, when the other one is gone as well. In the fight that costed her the name of the vardens, her newest friend and her own father, she learned how heavy the freedom of decision truly is.

Her thoughts go to Orin and she is almost twelve again, but this time she is holding a speech to herself, through tears and with a bloody knife in her hands, the only proof that she somehow revenged a pointless death. The words do not help, because her decision was made when she was much, much younger. She will follow her father’s steps and will finish what he worked so hard to accomplish.

And she knows the perfect first person that would help her. Eragon is his name and by the time she gets her title officially, she already has the mask of diplomacy on.

**V.**

Truths have always been revealed to her a little bit too late, and decisions have always had the chance of becoming regrets. But Nasuada trusts her judgment and trusts the judgment of the people she trusts, even though if sometimes everything becomes too unbearable.

Here she stands, with the dream of three generations almost becoming real, and fear starts crippling in, because what if she fails, when she is so close? What if she really is not the one to do whatever she wants?

But then mistakes might also be blessings in disguise, as the one to encourage her the most often is Elfa, the cursed girl Eragon left behind in his ignorance. She is defied by lots and every time she is the on the winning part. Nasuada fights and crawls and even begs if it brings the best to her people. She ignores and orders and compromises, because they’re still so small.

She feels even smaller when the opponents have a red dragon by their side and its rider is a man she trusted. But she feels just a little bit stronger when the battle begins and the order of taking him down hurts just a little bit worse than the Trial of Knives.

**VI.**

His touch, even as he is rough and hurried, while trying to make the best of the bustle outside, makes her long for a Murtagh that she knows that can’t be anymore. He doesn’t turn towards her and he almost doesn’t seem to care about her, but she sees that he instead cares in that moment of getting them alive out of this burning hell.

She tries to hate him, because a man that did what he did shouldn’t even call himself human, but she instead finds him excuses and even forgives him with the first caring touch, with the first sobs that escape his lips. There are even more to come, night after night, and she wants to cry too, because what a beautiful future the lies of her heart prepared for them, and what a horrible gift the reality sends towards them, leaving them with shaky hands and swears on their lips, souls frail.

She asks things that don’t make sense and gets answers that hold all the meanings in the world. So when he fights with death in his eyes and steps, only sour regret on his face, she wants to promise she will keep him in her legend, that he can be a hero together with her.

Though he never called himself as such, and he won’t call himself her hero either, because more than anything else, she was still the one that changed him, and so, brought his salvation.

She wants only one thing in exchange, but with an awkward hand hold and lips faintly brushing, his answer is _no._

The crown comes again, but with what sacrifice, again?

**VII.**

Bards sing of a queen with a sour heart that fell in love with storms because it reminded her of times when over the sky, a red dragon was watching.

**Author's Note:**

> The Inheritance Cycle is my favorite series, the one that made me love reading, the one that made me dream for years and years. And of course, how could I not love the great characters in this book? I feel really bitter about Nasuada and Murtagh and how things ended between them, but I just love Murtagh even more for his maturity and decision.  
> Nasuada is a queen in all and everything she does. I love her.  
> What do you mean Nasuada and Orin aren't like... bfffs?  
> I literally just love anything related to these books and how could I not have written something about it.
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://teavious.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
